


Just stop pressurin' me

by inplayruns



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, ep 5.18: Point of No Return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inplayruns/pseuds/inplayruns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He got laid, sure. That just wasn't how he was expecting it to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just stop pressurin' me

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during 5.18, "Point of No Return," after the alleyway scene but before Sam finds Dean handcuffed to the cot in the panic room.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean gasps out, to no use. He tugs feebly at the metal ring around his wrist, then stares up at the thing riding him. It’s moments like this that Dean remembers Cas isn’t really his friendly nickname, he’s _Castiel_ and he is not of this world.

And right now, the angel has his knees dug into the sides of Dean’s hips as he absolutely bounces up and down on Dean’s unlubed cock. He’s gotta be using his freaky angel mojo, too, because fuck it feels good inside him, so snug around him that Dean wonders how he even fits, but Dean can’t come. He never gets any closer.

It’s heavy and hot in his stomach, and Dean never got the whole half-pleasure, half-pain thing – he’ll stick with feeling good during sex, thank you very much, he felt shitty enough most of the time – but he understands it now. The heavy, gasping rolls wash over him, gathering in his spine. He feels like it might be an actual growth right now. That shit in caves – stalactite, stalagmites. Fuck, he’s thinking like Sam. (And double fuck, he’s thinking of Sam during _sex_. If it wasn’t some angel with crazy hot blue eyes and plush lips all but jumping on his dick, that’d just kill his erection.) It’s going to grow off his ass.

Of course, that’s when Cas busts out the shadows of his wings, and Dean jerks forward so hard he’s surprised that his cock doesn’t fucking _explode_ with the way he can’t come because, okay, maybe he’s been thinking about digging his hands into the dark feathers while he fucked him (and even though he’s fucking Cas, there’s no doubt who’s in charge here, and it’s not him, so not perfect, but it’ll do. To say the least.) since they rose behind him that night in the barn.

Dean just screams, instead. He knows Bobby and Sam and Adam – well, scratch Adam, he got friggin’ dream-kidnapped by the angels – won’t hear it, so he lets it out of his mouth. It’s everything, his latent orgasm which won’t punch out of him, Lisa’s quivering lower lip, the things he said to Sam and Bobby to push them away. Or get them to push him away, it’s the same at this point.

He got laid, sure. That just wasn’t how he was expecting it to go. But it distracts him from the fucking suicide mission that’s letting Michael walk around wearing his ass, and when he finally sobs out his orgasm, these fucking tears drip from his eyes too. Cas’ hand – and he’s Cas again, yeah – slips into his hair, and just holds him there until he sleeps.


End file.
